


my mouth is an open cage

by crossroadswrite



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Anxiety, Anxious Katsuki Yuuri, Domestic Fluff, Drabbles Collection, Established Relationship, M/M, Married Life, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2019-10-05 02:43:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 10,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17316566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crossroadswrite/pseuds/crossroadswrite
Summary: Based of the 100 ways to say I Love You prompt listherewith some alterations.Latest 'I love you':"I picked these for you." + Chubby Yuuri Week 2019 day 6: clothes





	1. Sorry I'm late.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!!! I want to try to keep myself writing at least a little bit every day this year, bc every time i stop, writing machine becomes rusty and breaks, so!!! I'm grabbing [this tumblr prompt list of 100 ways to say i love you](http://p0ck3tf0x.tumblr.com/post/98502010026/one-hundred-ways-to-say-i-love-you), and making some alterations where i feel like it needs them.
> 
> I'll be writing really really short one-shots of about 100-500 words, for the days I can't make myself work on a Proper Fic, but still want to get words out.

There’s something unnerving about how quiet Victor’s apartment sometimes gets, something that leads him to try fill it with as much noise in as many ways as he can. There’s something cold about silence that creeps under Victor’s skin and makes him get too caught up in his own head.

It’s the same feeling as when you have your back to a room that echoes strangely when you walk, the creeping feeling where you know there isn’t anyone or anything behind you, but for a breath, for the seconds that it takes you to convince yourself to look over your shoulder there’s an infinity of _what ifs_ breathing down your neck.

Victor hates moments like this almost as much as he fears them, when he can feel sadness and isolation biting at his heels, and he has to make a conscious effort to kick them off. the best he can. Which he does right now, by putting the last dish in the drying rack and grabbing the closest kitchen towel to dry his hands before he slips his wedding band back on his finger.

He takes a second to himself, gathering the courage to turn, but then front door is thrown wide open, and the house is filled with a flurry of noise, and suddenly turning around doesn’t cost anything at all.

“I’m home,” Yuuri calls out into the apartment, and then a little quieter, “Makkachin, stay still, I need to take off your leash. Yes, I love you too, enough kisses- Makka, _leash_.”

“Welcome home, Yuuri,” Victor greets, putting the kitchen towel away and walking to the foyer with open arms.

Makkachin jumps into them immediately, and Victor gets his much deserve doggy kisses while Yuuri takes advantage of Makkachin’s semi stillness to take his leash off and unhook his harness.

“Sorry I’m late,” Yuuri is saying as he takes his jacket and scarf off, and there’s something about that little throw away comment that feels heartfelt in a raw way to Victor. There’s an unspoken understanding there that speaks of how well Yuuri knows Victor and how much he knows about how Victor can get when he’s alone too long. “We stopped for dessert,” he says, and holds up a bag from Victor’s favorite pastry shop.

Victor takes it from him and sets it in the small table placed next to the door, so he can give Yuuri a hug and a kiss hello.

“Hm, you’re warm,” Yuuri says, leaning in immediately and getting comfortable in the circle of Victor’s arm.

It makes Victor a quiet kind of happy that they’ve done this enough that Yuuri knows his way around Victor’s body, and knows the most comfortable way to hug him.

“You’re cold,” Victor says, and then because he can’t help himself, “Want me to warm you up?”

“Yes, please,” Yuuri says readily, and shoves his ice cold fingers under Victor’s shirt, making him squeak, and _gods_ if Victor isn’t overwhelmingly in love with him.


	2. Just because.

 Here’s the deepest secret only his closest friend and his moms know: Victor has spent so much time focusing on becoming the best he could possibly be on the ice, that he had close to no opportunities to date or _be_ in love, and as a result he’s become too idealistic about it.

He overly romanticizes the idea of love, he knows. He’s got shelves upon shelves of romance books, neatly organized in his living room for a reason. A book is less of a commitment and has less expectations of Victor than a boyfriend is.

So when he fell face first in love with unarguably the most beautiful man in the world, Victor knew his expectations would never match reality, and he knew he would do a lot of the heavy lifting in romanticizing his relationship, in arranging dates, and making pinterest boards for their wedding.

He was fine with it. Victor liked organizing things, and he liked putting all his love and dedication into things that made Yuuri happy, he was more than willing to do all the heavy lifting.

Here’s the hidden secret Victor is delighted to find out: Yuuri is a romantic at heart, in a quiet way that contrasts sharply with Victor’s loudness. And he’s a constant and unstoppable surprise.

Victor never expects any grand gestures from Yuuri, and yet, sometimes he walks into his apartment, to find it dimly lit, rose petals are strewn on top of furniture – carefully out of Makkachin’s reach – leading to the dining room. Victor can smell the faint scent of his favorite candles burning somewhere in the house.

Makkachin trots over to the front door to greet him while Victor is hanging up his jacket. He’s wearing an adorable little bowtie. He looks so cute that Victor has to lose a whole five minutes to coo over how cute he looks, before he heads over to the dining room.

Yuuri’s placing the last plate of food on the table, arranging it carefully.

He has his hair pushed back in a way that manages to still look soft and tousled, and he’s got his glasses on. It’s a devastating look, only aggravated by how Yuuri’s skin seems to glow from the tealight candles set up in the middle of the table.

“Hi,” Yuuri says, nose crinkling up and pushing his glasses up.

“Hi,” Victor says, helpless to do anything but move towards Yuuri and kiss him hello. “What’s the occasion?” he asks, when he pulls back, glancing at all of Yuuri’s work.

Yuuri shrugs a shoulder, seeming almost embarrassed, a little bashful. “Just because,” he says, and there’s an honesty to his voice that is clawing. There’s a depth to it that Victor has learned to hear.

_Just because it makes you happy when I do this. Just because I like surprising you. Just because I love you._

“Smells delicious,” Victor says, and lets Yuuri pull his chair back for him, settling in for another lovely night with his husband.


	3. It looks good on you.

Yuuri can and has on multiple occasions spent several hours just listening to Victor speak. Sometimes, when they’re both really tired, and Yuuri wants to hear Victor’s voice but can’t really handle a conversation, Victor will read to him from whatever book is on his bedside table.

Yuuri loves Victor’s voice and how it changes almost imperceptibly depending on the language he’s speaking, loves how it sounds in the morning, or when he’s surprised or serious or excited, loves his accent and how it gives a new colour Yuuri had never considered to words.

He loves how Victor molds it around Yuuri’s name, all the different emotions he can fit behind two syllables with just how he presses his tongue to the letters.

And above all, he loves how Victor has a tone of voice that is just for Yuuri, one that not even Yuuri’s anxiety can deny drips with affection. It makes Yuuri want to become a linguist and spend the rest of his life noting down all the tiny lilts and dips in Victor’s voice. He has a running mental list of his favourite of Victor’s speech mannerisms.

In very first is how Victor says his name, because it’s the easiest way to render Yuuri putty in Victor’s hand. Just two syllables are enough to devastate him. The only thing that ranks as high are all the different ways Victor molds his voice when he’s speaking with Makkachin.

Somewhere further down, is the tone Victor uses when he says something looks good on Yuuri. Victor showers praise on Yuuri like he’s trying to weave a blanket with his words to drape over Yuuri’s shoulders on his worst days, but there is a very specific way in which he says, “It looks good on you,” that so far Yuuri has heard only three times.

The very first time was Yuuri’s first gold medal with Victor as his coach.

“It looks good on you,” he had said voice suffused with so much love and pride that Yuuri had to kiss him on the lips and then again where laugh lines were creasing the corners of his eyes.

“It looks good on you,” he had said when they had gotten their wedding rings – the ones to be exchanged during their vows, because neither of them could bear taking off the ones Yuuri had gotten them in Barcelona. Those had been a promise, these were a commitment. And Yuuri could hear that in Victor’s voice as he splayed their fingers together to look at the two sets of matching rings side by side, voice soft and overwhelmed, close to Yuuri’s ear.

“It looks good on you,” he says the third time, but not the final time Yuuri will hear it like this in his lifetime, overwhelmed and awed and adoring and maybe a little disbelievingly happy when Yuuri steps out of the dressing room with the final fit for his wedding suit.


	4. I was just thinking about you.

Yuuri worries sometimes. He’ll look at himself in the mirror and see the stretch marks from erratic weight gain and loss, the slight bump on his nose from where his glasses rest, the dull brown eyes and too thick hair. He worries about all the things he sees and the ones he doesn’t see. Like the anxiety that rests in the bottom of his stomach, always ready to simmer up at the gentlest of pokes, how he doesn’t give enough of himself and gets so much, how inadequate he can be, how he can’t hold a conversation to save his life.

(Victor worries sometimes. He’ll look at himself in the mirror and see the receding hairline, and how he’s getting creases in the corners of his eyes, how sometimes his back and knees ache from prolonged abuse, how his joints pop worryingly. He worries about all the things he sees and doesn’t see. Like how sometimes he can’t read the mood in a room and will say the wrong thing at the wrong time, how he forgets, how overwhelming he is, either too much all at once or not enough.)

Yuuri doesn’t quite understand, how despite all this, it’s still plain as day – even to him – how adoringly Victor looks at him. How Victor will mold himself to Yuuri like he needs it, how he’ll listen attentively, and, more importantly, how he waits for Yuuri. He cannot justify to himself the looks Victor gives him, the way he has a secret smile just for Yuuri, like he crafted it as a gift to him and only him, how sometimes he’ll just stare and sigh these little dreamy sighs that make Yuuri lean over and touch his lips to his as if that will make him understand them better.

(Victor doesn’t quite understand, how despite all this, how between the too much and not enough, Yuuri will still look at him like _that_. Like Victor’s the only thing worth his attention, the only person worth looking at in a full room. It’s a little incomprehensible to him how Yuuri’s eyes crinkle in blatant adoration, how he seems to store all his warm smiles for when it’s just the two of them, like they’re just for Victor. How Yuuri, who by no one’s standards is a touchy person, will let Victor touch and touch, and will reach back for him, seeming to delight in something as simple as running the pad of his thumb over Victor’s knuckles.)

But only sometimes does he worry. Most of his days are filled with too much love for worry to have any chance to sprout.

(It doesn’t take much to quell Victor’s worries. Most of the times just one of those looks from Yuuri, most of the times just spinning the two wedding bands around his finger.)

And how can he worry when Victor sometimes gets those far away dreamy looks on his face when he’s playing with Yuuri’s fingers – with the wedding bands around Yuuri’s finger – and will say, when asked what he was thinking about, “I was just thinking about you.”

(And how can he worry when Yuuri sometimes looks at him endlessly, eyes flicking through Victor’s face like he’s drinking him in, when he stares at him so adoringly, with a disbelieving and euphoric sort of happiness that almost makes the brown of his eyes seem molten. How could he possibly worry for long when Yuuri replies, when asked what he’s thinking about in those long moments, “I was just thinking about you.”)


	5. It's two sugars, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a slight heads up this one is majorly about anxiety, so huuuh watch out please <3

Anxiety is a lot like trying to navigate a maze with the persistent sensation that someone is following you, but when you look over your shoulder there’s no one there. It keeps your heart rate up, makes you doubt every step and every turn you take.

You know there’s an exit, somewhere, probably. But even if you find it, you always find yourself wandering back in, and it feels like everything was shifted slightly to the left. A path you thought you knew leads you somewhere completely different, the exit shifted places, there’s new trapdoors and hurdles, there’s something new watching from just around the corner.

Yuuri has been living with anxiety for most of his life and he still can’t quite figure out how to deal with it. There’s no one answer response.

Sometimes he’s so anxious he can’t bear being around anyone, sometimes he’s so anxious that he can’t bear to be alone.

Both him and Victor learned that it’s unrealistic to expect Victor to know how to handle Yuuri’s anxiety, when even Yuuri struggles to. Sometimes Victor will do the right thing, sometimes he’ll press the wrong button and Yuuri will spiral.

That happened often in the beginning, but they know better now. They’ve developed a system where Victor takes his cues from Yuuri and lets him work through it.

It was a learning curve, and not a kind one, but they’ve learned and they’ve grown and they’re closer for it. And gods, does Yuuri feel thankful every single day that Victor was willing to learn with him.

He knows it costs Victor, when Yuuri can’t bear to be touched or praised, when Victor can’t take care of him in a tangible way. How it makes Victor feel like he’s failing him.

When Yuuri’s in one of those moods, he’ll sit in the armchair that has the worn and loved comfort blanket draped over the back. He’ll curl up on it, sometimes with his phone, sometimes playing a game.

At times like this, Victor will either sit on the couch in quiet companionship, or, if he needs to do something in another division of the house, he’ll pass by the living room just to remind Yuuri he’s not alone.

Today Yuuri’s anxiety can’t quite make up its mind on what it wants. He doesn’t know if he wants to be alone or not, he doesn’t know what he needs or how to make his mind quiet.

Victor and he had walked home in silence, and Victor, after seeing how jittery Yuuri was, had not thrown his arm over Yuuri’s shoulders like he normally does. Even when they get home, and Yuuri makes for his armchair, Victor doesn’t say anything, just heads towards the kitchen after he says hi to Makkachin.

Yuuri curls his hand around the back of the armchair, before grabbing the blanket and throwing it over his shoulders.

He ends up sitting on the couch and patting the seat next to him until Makkachin jumps up and lays on his lap, more than ready to be doted on.

Victor appears in the living room after a while of Yuuri quietly petting Makkachin, Yuuri’s favourite mug in hand.

“It’s two sugars, right?” he asks, offering the mug to Yuuri. And even riddled with anxiety, and feeling like he’s got a hand around his throat, Yuuri can’t help but feel full to bursting with how much he loves him.

“Thank you,” Yuuri says and takes the mug.

Victor hovers uncertainly for a second, until Yuuri reaches with a hand up for him, towards his face, and Victor dutifully rests his cheek against his palm. Yuuri rubs a thumb over his cheekbone, and pulls him forward until he can touch his lips to his forehead, makes himself linger there for a second. “Thank you, Vitya.”

When Victor steps back his eyes are soft, and the tenseness in his shoulders has relaxed.

“Do you want me to go?” he asks softly, and Yuuri knows he can say yes without hurting his feelings.

“I don’t think so,” Yuuri says instead, which is neither a no nor a yes.

“Okay,” Victor says quietly. “Okay, tell me if you do.” And sits on the opposite end of the couch.

Yuuri’s anxiety doesn’t really go anywhere. It simmers, and he distracts himself as best as he can until he has to go to bed, and face the difficult task of falling asleep, but just knowing that he has Victor if he needs him, is enough to not let it escalate, and that’s the best Yuuri could’ve hoped for, really.


	6. Close your eyes and hold out your hands.

Victor’s en-route to the kitchen when Yuuri steps in front of him, effectively blocking his path.

“Vitya,” Yuuri says, soft and sweet, and then just looks at him like Victor personally put the moon in the sky and doesn’t say anything else, which is very unfair to Victor. He just wanted to go get a glass of water, and now he’s in the middle of his hallway feeling a swoop of affection that makes him want to abandon all his work and just hold Yuuri for the rest of the day.

He wishes he could, but he really needs to finish going over the sponsor contracts, so he hazards a guess at what Yuuri wants, and leans down to kiss him.

Yuuri tilts his face up to it, probably more out of habit than anything because when Victor pulls back he says, “Thank you. But that’s not what I wanted.”

Victor smiles. “Did you get distracted at how handsome your husband is again, darling?”

Victor can relate. Sometimes he just gets stuck staring at Yuuri and at how beautiful he is, how he’s so close, how he chooses Victor again, and again, every day.

He always feels a very particular kind of smug when he catches Yuuri doing the same.

Yuuri’s cheeks still get dusted pink when Victor catches him, and Victor wants to kiss him again for it.

“Close your eyes and hold out your hands, please,” Yuuri says instead of answering.

It probably says something that it doesn’t even cross Victor’s mind to ask why. He just closes his eyes and offers Yuuri his hands, fists lightly closed, wrists turned towards each other.

There’s a beat of silence before Yuuri starts laughing.

“ _Vitya_ ,” he says, in this unbearably fond tone that makes Victor open one eye to take a peek at him.

There are very few sights in this world more beautiful than his Yuuri laughing.

“I said close your eyes. No peeking,” Yuuri tells him as he gently takes his wrists and turns them so his palms face up, and Victor’s fingers automatically uncurl with the movement.

Victor closes his eye again, “Okay, no peeking.”

There’s a solid couple of seconds where nothing happens, and then Victor feels something incredibly soft being placed in his hands.

“Can I open my eyes now?” he asks.

Yuuri hesitates for a second before he says, “Yes.”

Victor blinks his eyes open and stares down at his hands where a pair of very fuzzy socks are laying.

“So, you remember how our neighbor next door invited me to her knitting club?” Yuuri says, sounding a little nervous.

“Did you make these?” Victor asks, suddenly very excited as he turns them over in his hands. They’re a solid blue that goes all the way past Victor’s knee and then the blue is interrupted by a softer shade of it and – Victor gasps – a little poodle who seems to be peeking over the rim that the first colour makes. There are two little tufts of yarn shaped like  puppy ears that stick out of the sock and flop down.

“I had hel- oof,” Yuuri starts saying, and is promptly interrupted by Victor squeezing him in a hug.

“These are so cute, I love them.”

Yuuri laughs very softly and hugs him back.

“I’m glad. Maybe now you can stop waking me up in the middle of the night with your cold fe- what are you doing?” Yuuri asks when Victor starts kicking off his pants and socks he’s wearing.

“Putting them on,” he says, and honestly what did Yuuri expect him to _do_ when he made him something this cute?

“Vitya,” Yuuri sighs, and there it is again, that fond tone that Victor adores so much. “Here lean on me, you’re going to fall.”

“My hero,” Victor sighs dreamily at him, just to see Yuuri’s mouth quirk up in amusement. It’s easier with Yuuri helping, granted. And when he’s done he steps back and twirls around. The little ears move with the movement. “How do I look?”

Yuuri is staring at him with a hand covering his mouth and another over his chest.

“Please let me take a picture,” Yuuri says, sounding overwhelmed.

“Of course, darling,” Victor says, feeling very smug and very in love.

Yuuri takes several pictures, and later that night Victor makes a valiant attempt to wear the socks to bed so he won’t wake Yuuri up. Predictably, the socks end up at the foot of the bed somewhere in the night and Victor shoves his very cold feet against Yuuri’s legs anyway.


	7. I dreamt about you last night.

Victor loves mornings. There’s something about the endless possibilities that stretch ahead of him in a day, and the calmness of the world when most of it isn’t awake that settles him.

He’s always been a morning person, and his mothers more than delight in telling stories of him climbing into their bed at ungodly hours and demanding attention. There’s even a carefully curated home movie selection with _just_ clips of Victor being very cute and waking his mothers up.

But the main reason why Victor loves mornings nowadays is…

“Mornin’,” Yuuri mumbles, dragging himself through the kitchen and attaching himself to Victor’s back like a limpet.

“Good morning, darling,” Victor says softly, raising his elbows away from his body so Yuuri can comfortably loop his arms around him. “How did you sleep?”

“The bed is cold without you,” Yuuri complains, rubbing his cheek sleepily against Victor’s shoulder blade.

There’s nothing in this world Victor loves more than how clingy Yuuri is in the mornings.

“Come back to bed,” Yuuri mumbles against his shoulder, pressing a kiss to it.

“I’m making you breakfast,” Victor tells him.

“Mean,” Yuuri complains, and Victor can feel him pout against his shoulder.

“So mean,” Victor agrees with a little laugh.

“Hmm,” Yuuri hums, and then tilts his lips towards Victor’s ear and says, “I dreamt about you last night.”

Victor turns in his arms, so Yuuri is pressed against his front, and Yuuri loses no time in shoving his face in his chest.

“Oh?”

“Hmm-hmm,” Yuuri hums, and peers up at Victor in a way that is absolutely lethal. “You went completely bald.”

“ _Yuuri!_ ”

Victor has never felt more betrayed in his entire _life_. Even if he can’t really find it in himself to be mad because the way Yuuri laughs, like it was tickled out of him, is absolutely everything to him.

“How could you?” he gasps, and tries to take a step back, but Yuuri is holding onto him tight and just follows. “I’ll never recover.”

“Don’t worry, Georgi was a witch and he told me how to get your hair back.”

“And did you?”

“I woke up before I could,” Yuuri sighs and nuzzles into Victor’s collarbones. “Maybe if we go back to bed I can get it back.”

That startles a laugh out of Victor.

“Ah, I see. You’re trying to con your poor, loving husband, is that it?”

“Depends, is it working?”

“No, but good effort. We have a meeting in an hour, I’m not letting you back into bed.”

“Booooo. Meanie.”

Victor runs a hand through his hair, wondering how he can still be this charmed by him.

“You’re the one who made me bald,” Victor tells him, trying to tame Yuuri’s hair down with little to no success.

“It was a _dream_ ,” Yuuri huffs amusedly, and tilts his head into Victor’s hand. “Besides, you don’t have to worry. I’d love you even if you were bald, Vitya.”

Victor has very high romance standards, but for Yuuri, this is enough to make Victor melt and pepper Yuuri’s face with kisses until he’s a laughing mess and awake enough to face the day.


	8. You can do this. // yuuri week 2019 day 1: competitive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy yuuri week everyone!! i really wanted to do something for best boy, but i also have my hands a bit full atm, so i decided little drabbles would work best! so get ready for a full week of yuuri centric drabbles!!
> 
> also warning for anxious yuuri in this one! <3

Here’s a truth Yuuri doesn’t speak: he hates losing. He hates losing in a way that turns his gut and makes his teeth grind. He hates losing so much he feels _angry_ with it, can feel it souring the inside of his mouth, making him want to bite down on his tongue.

When Yuuri loses, he’s never mad at whoever he lost to. It’s always himself that he directs that anger to, because he knows deep in his bones that he could’ve won, and the only reason he didn’t is because he keeps holding himself back.

Yuuri loses a lot. But then again, anything short of gold is a loss for him.

He hates losing so much that it chokes him up, a tight fist of anxiety wrapping around his throat, because losing always means more than just losing. It means disappointing everyone who cheered for him, it means less money to send back to his parents, it means that Yuuri wasn’t _good enough_.

Losing is never just about not getting a medal.

Yuuri hates losing, but he hates the prospect of losing even more. He hates the moments before he has to skate, when his future hangs on a balance that can easily be tipped over if someone so much as breathes the wrong word at the wrong time to him.

He hates the state it leaves him, shaking, unfocused, _afraid_.

Victor puts a hand on Yuuri’s upper back and rubs soothing circles that don’t do much to soothe Yuuri’s nerves at all.

Yuuri will be competing in ten minutes and he’s falling apart on some forgotten hallway. Again.

“You can do this,” Victor says, because he loves Yuuri and it kills him seeing him like this.

It kills Yuuri too that Victor has to see him like this. It kills him more that this is apparently the wrong thing to say, because without really meaning to, Yuuri finds himself snapping a, “I know!”

And that’s the thing. He knows, he _knows_ , _he knows_. Yuuri can step onto the ice and he can skate a perfect program, he could break a world record, he could win this entire competition and go home with gold, he could be every bit as good as Victor is, and he _knows this_. But he also doesn’t.

And that’s the thing. He knows, but he doesn’t. He knows but he doubts himself. He knows but what good is _knowing_ , when more often than not he can’t deliver.

Victor’s eyes are wide and startled and his mouth pressed into a thin line. Yuuri has to drop his gaze back onto the floor because he _hates_ that he just did that, but he can’t apologize right now. He will later. He’ll probably cry while doing it too, because he _hates_ putting that look on Victor’s face.

Victor shouldn’t have to deal with this.

Fuck, _Yuuri_ shouldn’t have to deal with this, but he has to, and for some reason Victor chooses to.

Victor’s hand is still on his back, not moving, just a point of contact.

“Show me something I’ll like,” Victor tries instead, which is… better. It doesn’t fix anything, it doesn’t make Yuuri calm down, but it’s better.

“I want to show you something you’ll be proud of,” Yuuri mumbles, like it’s a secret.

“Oh, солнышко, you always do,” Victor says, which must be a bald faced lie, but Yuuri doesn’t call him out on it.

There’s no magic word to make Yuuri feel better. He wishes there was, but there isn’t.

In the end, Yuuri steps on the ice with a voracity to win and a fear of losing that make his hands shake. He gets into position, and takes one last breathe, and thinks _I want to show Victor something he’ll never forget_ because he knows he _can_. He already has, and he can do it again and again and again.

And then, he skates.


	9. Can I have this dance? // yuuri week 2019 day 2: fairytale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one might be a Stretch but i really wanted to do wedding stuff, and who best to appreciate yuuri than victor nikiforov himself

Victor has always wanted to get married. He remembers growing up and helping his mother organize one of her many wedding albums, remembers cutting pictures out of magazines and making collages of it.

Even now, Victor may or may not have an exorbitant amount of Pinterest boards dedicated to wedding planning, carefully organized by theme and color scheme.

He realized, at some point, that his actual wedding would fall short of expectations. He’s prepared for it, except it turns out he didn’t need to be, because when the day actually comes every single one of Victor’s expectations are met.

He gets married to Yuuri during the end of spring in Hasetsu, when the cherry blossoms are in full bloom and pink petals flutter down to the ground lazily.

Victor’s always dreamed of a fairytale wedding, and he gets one.

Falling in love with Yuuri, and _being_ in love with Yuuri also feels like a fairytale, just one with a lot more metaphorical dragon slaying than Victor had anticipated.

Yuuri is beautiful, just like every prince he’s read about. He’s kind, and headstrong, and impulsive, and so _so_ brave that Victor’s chest feels full with pride to bursting.

Yuuri with his plethora of smiles that he keeps tucked under his sleeve – his shy smiles, his awkward smiles, his smug and teasing smiles, his laughing smiles, his nervous smiles, and all the ones Victor hasn’t uncovered.

Yuuri who cuts a striking image in his suit, hair gelled back out of his face, and glasses perched on his nose as he talks with friends and family, eyes always straying to Victor to give him this overwhelmingly happy look, like they share a secret.

Yuuri never thought much about getting married, Victor knows because Yuuri’s told him as much, so Victor didn’t expect him to be as into planning the wedding as he was, but Yuuri set to the task with the same single-minded focus he dedicates to skating.

Victor was afraid at first, that he had just been doing it out of a sense of duty, that Yuuri’s heart wasn’t fully into it. He had been quickly discouraged of that notion when Yuuri had woken him up at three a.m. to show him a flower arrangement website he’d found.

When Victor had relayed his worries to Yuuri he had just looked confused and said, “Of course I’m excited, I’m marrying you!”

And now, after months, and months of planning, here they are, finally doing it. Victor feels like he’s been floating on air the entire day.

Yuuri cuts his eyes to him again from across the room, and Victor swears he can feel how loved he is even across the distance. He watches Yuuri say something to Mari and Minako, before he starts making his way across the room, eyes intent on him, and Victor’s helpless to do anything but meet him halfway.

Yuuri’s breathtaking. His suit fits him in a devastating way, and every time Victor looks at him he feels like he has to go lay down. There are cherry blossom petals stuck in his hair, and soft wisps of it have started falling over his face.

He smiles at Victor, and this one is special, it’s the one he’s carved out just for Victor to see, it’s the one Victor is so, so weak to, the one who makes him want to believe in a god so he can thank someone for Yuuri.

“Can I have this dance?” Yuuri asks, holding out a hand.

“You can,” he says, feeling almost giddy with excitement as he places his hand on Yuuri’s and lets him lead him to the dance floor.

Victor always had high expectations for his wedding - impossible to meet expectations - but Yuuri, his beautiful, surprising Yuuri, met all of them.


	10. Wow. // yuuri week 2019 day 3: hair

When Yuuri was a teen he went through a phase where he wanted to drastically change himself but didn’t really know how, so he borrowed and stole bits of everyone he admired and tried them on for size.

From Yuuko he took painting his nails, and he liked that well enough. There was something calming about the motions, something that settled him, but it was hard to upkeep when he had so much going on constantly, so more often than not Yuuri walked around with two week old nail polish flaking off his nails.

He still paints his nails sometimes, but not nearly as frequently as he used to.

From Minako he took the way her pants never seemed to cover her ankles. He went as far as to roll up jeans for the look, and that had stuck. He did it almost mindlessly now. In fact, most of his sense of style came from Minako, which explains a lot probably.

From Mari, it was the piercings. Yuuri’s parents were always kind and understanding. They never batted an eye when Mari came home with a new piercing, and they didn’t either when Yuuri came home with his ears pierced.

He liked wearing earrings well enough, but that was an expensive habit, because Yuuri was apparently allergic to nickel, and everything he could afford was made of it. Yuuri could only wear gold or silver without breaking out, which, looking back, is incredibly ironic.

He let his piercings close over but they’re still noticeable if you look closely.

From Victor he took the hair.

When Yuuri was young, he decided he wanted to grow it out. He was hell-bent on it. He refused to go to a barber or a hairdresser, and begged Yuuko to teach him how to style long hair. Yuuko more than happily taught him, and Yuuri has some very fond memories of practicing on her.

Yuuri had even grown it decently long. It went just past his shoulders, and his mother delighted in styling it for him, since Mari was never one to tolerate those kinds of things. Yuuri loved having his hair played with so she let her do it.

That had lasted until one of his competitors stuck gum in his hair just before a performance. Yuuri had stupidly tried to brush it out when peeling the gum off wasn’t working, which only resulted in the hairbrush also getting stuck in his hair. Yuuri was supposed to skate in twenty minutes, and there was no time to try any other avenue other than scissors.

Yuuri hadn’t let his hair get long again, after that.

And then-

And then, Victor.

And then he moves to St. Petersburg, and he just sort of… forgets to cut it. He lets his hair grow longer, and falls a little in love with the way Victor takes advantage of their height difference by putting his forearms on top of Yuuri’s shoulders, so his hands can play with Yuuri’s hair at the back of his neck. He falls a little in love with how Victor will brush it aside and tuck it behind his ear.

So he just doesn’t cut it, until it’s past his shoulders and he starts having to tie it up for practice.

Victor takes to playing with it, braiding it, tying it and untying it in complicated and intricate styles. He goes as far as to work his costumes to match his hairstyle instead of the opposite, and Yuuri indulges in all of it, because every time he steps out of a dressing room in a new costume, with his hair done up in a new and creative way, Victor will stare at him with stars in his eyes, and whisper, “Wow,” in a way that sounds overwhelmed and adoring.

It’s funny how it works out. The first time Yuuri grew out his hair was out of a need of change, and to grow a step closer to an unattainable goal. The second time it’s because he feels so settled in his life that change isn’t a need, but something welcome all the same, something that allows a new sort of intimacy between him and his husband that Yuuri basks in.


	11. I'll be careful, don't worry. // yuuri week 2019 day 4: triumph

Yuuri’s spent a very long time making himself small and unobtrusive, trying to take up as little space as possible. He’s spent a long time deescalating his hunger to win into something polite, quiet, always simmering under his skin until it burst out in a fit of emotion.

And then Victor happened, and slowly, _so slowly_ , Yuuri’s found it harder and harder to keep that hunger in check, to keep himself small. Victor makes him shameless in his wants, and Yuuri does not want to be unobtrusive anymore, he does not want to go unheard. He wants to take up space, he wants to savagely claw himself into winning, he wants to _deserve it_.

Yuuri’s hungry to win. He’s always been, he’s just louder about it now, more upfront.

And it’s that hunger stoked by Victor’s flowing praise and his belief in Yuuri along with Yuuri’s own desires of making him proud, that keeps Yuuri trying to reach for more, higher, better.

Yuuri struggles with some jumps. He never even _dared_ dream up the concept that he could ever be the one to land a jump in competition no one has ever landed before.

Things like that were reserved for people like Victor, is what Yuuri used to think, until he found out Victor and him weren’t that different from each other.

Victor’s been coaching Yuuri for years now, and it’s as if with every year that passes by, Yuuri gets bolder and bolder and bolder.

No one has landed a quad axel successfully in competition yet. Yuuri’s going to be the first one if he manages to actually stick the landing.

Victor holds his hand at the boards, fingers gripping tight around Yuuri’s palm, and he brings his knuckles to his mouth and kisses his ring.

Yuuri’s injured himself on this jump during practice and almost had to sit the season out, so he knows Victor worries.

“I promise I’ll be careful,” Yuuri tells him, and means it. Yuuri might not manage to be careful for his own sake sometimes, but he will always be for Victor’s, even if this is something largely out of his control.

“I’m not worried,” Victor lies. “You’re going to do beautifully. I won’t take my eyes off you.”

“You better not,” Yuuri teases. He doesn’t feel light, exactly. He’s so nervous, he almost threw up in the bathroom earlier. He’s talked himself in and out of even attempting it several times, but now, with his skates under his feet and Victor’s hand in his, he feels a little more settled, _grounded_.

He brings Victor’s knuckles to his lips and kisses the ring on Victor’s fingers. It’s a silly superstition to have, maybe. But Yuuri always feels stronger when he does it, like he’s more capable, like he’s borrowing some of Victor’s strength.

“Just like in practice, right?”

“Just like in practice,” Victor says, and kisses his ring again.

Yuuri takes a steadying breath, and nods, before he skates to the center of the ice. He gets into his position, familiar to him by now, and waits for the music to start.

And then, he makes history.


	12. Happy birthday! // yuuri week 2019 day 5: party

Yuuri doesn’t make a big deal out of his birthday. He doesn’t really care for it, all he needs is a peaceful day and maybe a little treat. Victor, though, seems to be hellbent on celebrating it.

“Happy birthday!” he cheers at six in the morning, setting off a party popper right over their bed so confetti sprinkles down on Yuuri.

Yuuri startles so badly, he almost falls off the bed.

“Buh?” he asks confusedly.

Victor drops a kiss against his slack lips and beams. “Happy birthday, darling! I made you breakfast!” he says, and grabs a tray full of delicious smelling food.

“O-kay?” he says slowly, trying to catch up to what’s happening. Victor sets the tray astride Yuuri’s lap, and everything looks so good Yuuri immediately forgives him for waking him up like that.

“I have a whole day planned! So eat up!” Victor says, and then flounces out of the room.

At which point Yuuri thinks, _uh-oh_ , and resigns himself to losing his peace and quiet.

“Happy birthday!” Victor says as Yuuri’s getting dressed, and hands him a bag from the expensive boutique they had visited two weeks ago. Inside there’s an incredibly soft sweater, that Yuuri more than happily puts on. He rubs the sleeves over his cheeks, delighted with how soft it is. Victor starts taking pictures.

“Happy birthday!” Victor says, hand on the small of Yuuri’s back as he leads them into Yuuri’s favourite restaurant in town.

“This is too much, Vitya,” Yuuri says, but his eyes are already running down the menu, wondering what he’s going to get.

“Nonsense, there’s no such thing as too much when it comes to loving you, darling.”

Yuuri would protest, but the waiter comes over to take their order so he drops it.

“Happy birthday!” Victor and all his friends in St. Petersburg shout when Yuuri steps back into their apartment after walking Makkachin.

Yuuri startles so badly, he screams and falls back against the front door.

Confetti falls in a shower around him. There’s a two tiered cake on a table and a small collection of gifts.

“Are you surprised?” Victor asks excitedly.

Yuuri feels like he just saw his life flash before his eyes.

“That’s a word for it,” he says, trying to slow down his heart rate.

He does have a good time. Yuuri isn’t fond of parties, especially ones where he’s the center of attention, but this feels comfortable, familiar. It’s good to catch up with everyone when they’re not at practice.

“Happy birthday! Ready to open your present?” Victor says, voice pitched low. He’s spread out on the bed, surrounded by rose petals, and wearing a little set of lilac lingerie that is making Yuuri’s soul ascend. There’s a little bow tied around his throat.

Yuuri stares at him, and thinks about being thirteen and receiving his first Victor Nikiforov poster from an official shoot in full HD, he thinks about being sixteen and Yuuko stealing a Victor Nikiforov standee from a competition for him, he thinks about being twenty-two and someone sending him a body pillow of Victor, he thinks about being twenty-five and having Victor spread out on a bed for him, giving him a come-hither look.

_Thank you mother for my life,_ Yuuri thinks, maybe a little deliriously, and closes the bedroom door behind him.


	13. I want you to be happy. // yuuri week 2019 day 6: life & love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is a liddle angsty, here's the warning for all my soft hearted babes out there

The most heartbreaking thing Victor ever tells him is, “I want you to be happy.”

The words, in and on themselves, aren’t heartbreaking, but the context and the tone Victor says them in makes them so.

He says them after Yuuri moves to St. Petersburg with him, after a week of Victor meticulously pulling himself apart and bending over backwards to make sure Yuuri is comfortable.

He says them with a wobble to his voice, fear making his eyes wide, tiredness slumping his shoulders, head tipped up to look at Yuuri almost imploringly, like Yuuri is a fickle god that will cast him aside if he doesn’t devote himself enough.

It’s awful. The guilt eats Yuuri up, because Yuuri knows he’s not a thoughtful person. He knows he’s selfish and inconsiderate, he knows he’s not the best of friends most of the time.

Yuuri has so much going on in his own head that it’s hard for him to pay attention to others’ emotions and needs and wants. Yuuri, who has gone years without seeing his family because he had made up rules for himself that made their love a condition, and who had to apologize to Phichit and Yuuko over and over and over for forgetting to text back, knows he is thoughtless and a little self-involved.

For a long time, he was so busy with handling himself, he hadn’t realized how many people cared for him and supported him.

And then Victor happened, and Yuuri got a glimpse of that love. Victor happened, and all those made up rules started crumbling down slowly.

With Victor, Yuuri wanted to be considerate, wanted to pay attention, wanted to give and give and give and not hole himself up behind a closed door so he didn’t have to give or take.

And yet.

Yet, they still end up here. With Yuuri being thoughtless and selfish, and noticing a little too late how much Victor has been struggling.

“I am,” he says. “I am, _I am_. You don’t need to do anything to make me happy, I’m happy just being here with you.” He frames Victor’s face in his hands as if that will hold him together, as if that will knock some sense into him.

Victor looks at him like he doesn’t quite believe him, and it’s awful. Yuuri pulls Victor’s face towards his neck and cradles it there, hugs him close and tight and aching. It’s as much because he wants to offer comfort as it is because he doesn’t want to look at the heartbreaking expression Victor is making anymore.

Victor fists his hands in the back of Yuuri’s shirt and trembles. Yuuri holds him, trying to offer comfort in this simple way, but he still feels clumsy with it.

Yuuri’s bad at this, and he knows if it was anyone else, he would probably have pulled away by now, but this is Victor and Yuuri loves him so much he doesn’t think he’ll get all of it out of his system in this lifetime. Victor deserves to be loved in all-encompassing, selfless way, and Yuuri vows, right then and there, not to just love him to the full extent of his capabilities but also to learn how to do it _properly_.

Taking care of Victor like he needs to be taken care of his a learning curve, and Yuuri may not be a fast learned, but he’s a stubborn one.


	14. Well, what do you want to do? // yuuri week 2019 day 7: (firsts and) lasts

When Yuuri is thirty-three he gets injured during practice and is forced to sit out the rest of the season.

Yuuri’s been lucky, he knows. He’s never had any major injury, but years and years of abuse, of minor infractions against his body have been stacking up. To say he’s furious about it would be an understatement.

Yuuri wants to retire on his own terms, and not because an injury put him out of commission. He almost challenges his doctor and skates anyway. He probably would have if anyone else but Victor was his coach. Yuuri can be incredibly stubborn and incredibly stupid when he wants to.

But as it stands Victor _is_ his coach, and his resounding no is immovable. They fight about it and it gets ugly because Yuuri is an unstoppable force when he wants to be and Victor is an immovable object when he wants to be.

Yuuri hates it. He hates fighting with Victor, he hates that he’s been _forced_ out of competition when both him and Victor had spent so much time on his programs. He hates that he has to forfeit because his stupid body can’t get with the program, and he _hates_ that all of this is his own damn fault.

Maybe if he hadn’t been so careless during practice, maybe if he had tied his skates a millimeter tighter, maybe if he hadn’t tried to go for that jump.

Yuuri doesn’t want to retire yet. Not like this.

“Well, what do you want to do?” Victor asks, and he sounds tired.

Yuuri knows this has been taking almost as big of a toll on Victor as it has on him, and he hates that too.

He thinks carefully about that, choosing his words carefully for the first time in a while.

“I want… I want to marry you,” Yuuri says.

Victor laughs a little, and his shoulders unwind minutely. “Darling, we’re already married,” he reminds him, and takes Yuuri’s hand in his, kisses his knuckles.

“I want to marry you again,” Yuuri insists. “I promised you five medals, didn’t I?”

“You’ve given me more than five medals.”

And Yuuri has. It’s been ten years since Victor started coaching him, and Yuuri has medaled in almost every competition he was in. But they were not all gold.

Through the years Yuuri has managed to win four gold medals in the Grand Prix series, and four at Worlds.

“I want to skate one more season. Don’t make me retire like this,” Yuuri says, begs. “Not like this, Vitya. Give me a chance at giving you all the medals I promised.”

“I don’t care about medals, I care about you,” Victor tells him, lips pressed into a thin line.

“I know,” Yuuri says, because he does. He cups Victor’s cheek with a hand. “I’m doing this for myself, I _need_ this, Vitya.”

Victor sighs, leaning into Yuuri’s hand and closes his eyes, and Yuuri knows that was enough. Yuuri knows he’ll say yes.

“Fine,” he says, and Yuuri starts grinning, “ _if_ you do everything the doctor ordered and dedicate yourself to resting for the rest of the season. _And_ if your injury starts getting worse, we’re stopping, I don’t want any arguments. I’m not letting you break yourself on the ice.”

“Yes, coach, of course, coach,” Yuuri says dutifully.

Victor pinches his cheek. “You’re lucky I love you.”

Yuuri goes soft. “I really am.”

Victor melts, grabs Yuuri by the chin to pull him into a kiss.

Yuuri’s last season is a mostly golden one. He finishes Worlds with gold hanging on his neck and tears in his eyes and a sense of accomplishment that settles heavy and pleasant in his stomach.

The cheers of the crowd are deafening but they’re nothing compared to the cheers of their friends and family when Victor and Yuuri exit their second wedding reception for a well deserved honeymoon.


	15. I made your favorite. // chubby yuuri week 2019 day 2: favorite foods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Chubby Yuuri Week everyone!!! I have four little ficlets prepared for this series for it. <3

Something Yuuri loves about having been married to Victor for so long is that they’ve found so many different interests to share. He still remembers when they were first starting to get to know each other – _really_ know each other – during that dreamlike summer in Hasetsu, and how delighted he was that Victor shared his enthusiasm for food.

Learning that Victor got as excited about good food as he did, that they had that in common had been beyond precious for Yuuri back then, and now it’s just another thing they share, another way to spend time together.

Even if at the time he had been jealous Victor didn’t seem to have Yuuri’s proclivity to gain weight. Yuuri likes his body, but he hated how much restraint he had to have during the skating season, how much he had to abstain.

(Yuuri has become very, _very_ good at self-control and self-denial. All things Victor had undone ridiculously fast as soon as he had put his hands on him.)

Yuuri’s glad he gets to indulge with Victor now, neither of them having to be overcautious of dietary plans or the like. And Victor seems glad to be able to grope his thighs and tum whenever he pleases.

That’s why Yuuri doesn’t even startle when Victor wraps himself around him, chest to Yuuri’s back, and hands immediately squishing Yuuri’s tummy, as Yuuri tries to cook.

“Hmm, smells nice,” Victor says, peering over Yuuri’s shoulder at the stove.

“I made your favorite,” Yuuri says, which really can mean a number of things, since Victor claims most things he eats are his favorite.

“Oh, but that’s not my favorite,” Victor says, and before Yuuri can start feeling disappointed Victor doesn’t like the little surprise he prepared for him, Victor grabs two handfuls of his ass and squeezes. “This is.”

Yuuri squeaks in surprise, before he turns around and whacks him with a dish towel. “You’re awful. I’m divorcing you right now and taking Makkachin with me.”

Victor laughs at him. “Noooo,” he whines, trying to cling to Yuuri. “I’d be starved without you.”

“You can feed yourself,” Yuuri says, trying not to laugh, and poking Victor in the stomach to get him to stop clinging.

Victor grabs him by the shoulder and makes sure they’re looking at each other before he says as seriously as he can, “Love starved.”

They hold eye contact for a second before they both burst into giggles.

“Go sit down, I’m going to burn dinner,” Yuuri says when he’s recovered.

“I can help,” Victor says, trying to grab for Yuuri’s ass again.

Yuuri pushes him back. “Absolutely not. You’re banned from my kitchen. Go away.”

“Okay, but I’ll miss you terribly,” Victor sighs out, as if he wasn’t going just into the next room.

“Shoo,” Yuuri says to that, and snaps his dish towel on Victor’s ass, making him jump, and turn back to face Yuuri raising both eyebrows suggestively.

Yuuri laughs at him and waves him away, turning back to make sure he didn’t burn dinner.


	16. You're warm. // chubby yuuri week 2019 day 3: warmth

Victor’s always been a morning person. Even now, when he’s well-settled into his retirement and has no need for it, he still gets up early.

Yuuri, on the other hand, is the furthest thing from a morning person that anyone could be, and now that he’s settling into his retirement too, he sleeps half the morning away on most days.

Victor doesn’t mind. Especially when he comes back inside from walking Makkachin, the winter chill clinging to him, and gets to slip back in bed with Yuuri, cuddling up to him.

He drops a kiss to the nape of Yuuri’s neck, before tucking his cold nose against it, and slipping his hands under Yuuri’s shirt, where he’s warm and soft.

Yuuri jerks and hisses. “Vitya,” he complains, grabbing Victor’s hand and pulling them away from his tummy. “You’re _cold_.”

Victor hums against his neck. “You’re warm.”

Yuuri’s always so warm, it’s like having a space heater around. Victor doesn’t get cold easily, but he is cold. His hands, his feet, the tip of his nose are permanently cold, even during the summer, and he delights in putting his hands up Yuuri’s shirt, especially now when neither of them have to worry about keeping to their diet and Yuuri’s off-season chub is permanent.

Victor might spend more time groping Yuuri now than he used to, and that’s saying something, but how can he not when Yuuri is so _soft_ , so squishy.

“You’ll give me a heart attack one of these days,” Yuuri says, bringing Victor’s palm up to his lips and kissing it.

Victor huffs a little laugh and tangles his legs between Yuuri’s, pressing his feet against the fabric of his pants. Yuuri’s started tucking the hem of his sleeping pants into his socks ever since he started sleeping with Victor not to be woken up by his cold feet in the middle of the night, and Victor is hopelessly endeared by it.

Yuuri turns around so they’re face to face and gives him a pouty glare. Victor kisses the tip of his nose.

“Sorry, darling.”

“No, you’re not,” Yuuri huffs, but snuggles up to him.

“No, I’m not,” Victor agrees, curling one hand up between their chests, and letting the other fall around him, as Yuuri slips one of his thighs between Victor’s and sighs, something warm and comfortable, already getting ready to get back to sleep.

Victor kisses the top of his head, and settles in. It takes him no time at all to warm up again.


	17. I made reservations. // chubby yuuri week 2019 day 5: date night

Victor’s favorite thing about being retired is how many places he can revisit without having a competition looming ahead. Victor’s so well-travelled and yet he still feels like he’s barely seen anything of the places he’s travelled to.

So he decides the best way to fix that – the best way to patch the crippling loneliness competition brought to some places he visited – is to revisit them with Yuuri.

They try to go somewhere new every year, sometimes they even visit multiple places in a year, and call it a honeymoon. It’s become one of their little traditions, to the point that not even Victor can remember what honeymoon they’re on.

Victor always enjoys his trips with Yuuri, but he has to say, he never expected to be the kind of person who would be content with just lazying around. He usually has an itinerary planned months in advanced before their trips. He knows every single landmark he wants to visit, every tourist hub and shopping strip, every restaurant and food cart.

Yuuri may be a stamina monster when it comes to physical activities, but he can’t bear social ones for very long. So now, Victor plans down time so Yuuri can properly recover from all the activities Victor plans.

“I made reservations,” Victor complains half-heartedly. They’re good reservations too. He’s heard nothing but high praise from the restaurant.

“I’m sure we can still make them if we get up,” Yuuri says, a note of amusement ringing in his voice.

Making his reservations go to waste would probably be close to criminal, but so would getting up right now.

Victor rented a little apartment with a gorgeous view of the ocean. There’s a porch swing almost long enough for Victor to lay down on it, and he’s taking full advantage of it by doing just that, head pillowed in Yuuri’s soft, _soft_ thighs, as Yuuri  pets a hand through his hair, and keeps them swinging gently.

Yuuri’s wearing very tiny shorts that he only wears when it’s just the two of them because they pinch his thighs and half of his ass hangs out of them, and Victor know he wears them expressly for him. Making Yuuri change into proper clothing is probably also criminal.

Victor thanks god and Katsuki Hiroko for Yuuri’s retirement chub every single day of his life. He wants to die in his lap.

“Or,” Yuuri says, “we could order in and get sloppy drunk on champagne.”

Victor suddenly has a very vivid vision of licking champagne off of Yuuri. He looks up at him with stars in his eyes and says, “I love you.”

Yuuri laughs at him. “I’ll take that as a yes.”


	18. I picked these for you. // chubby yuuri week 2019 day 6: clothes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i forgot to post this one yesterday sorry :(

Yuuri has lost count of how many times Victor has presented him with a shopping bag and said, “I picked these for you,” while smiling so eagerly that Yuuri had no choice but to accept it and indulge Victor in whatever thing he wanted to dress Yuuri in.

The worst thing Yuuri might have done is getting used to Victor spoiling him, because now that he doesn’t so much as put a token objection, Victor has taken it to mean he can just shower Yuuri in gifts.

Yuuri still feels like the way they spoil each other is a bit lopsided at times, and that he should spoil Victor way more than he does. But spoiling him is so _hard_ when he already has everything.

That’s why Yuuri has to get creative with spoiling him.

This morning Victor had approached him with yet another shopping bag, some expensive brand’s logo scrawled on the side, and had said, in the same adoringly eager voice he always uses, “I picked this for you.”

Inside there had been an extremely soft sweater which Yuuri had immediately fallen in love with. The soft material feels like a dream under his fingers, and Yuuri’s going to put it on in a moment, right after he finishes preparing his next gift for Vitya.

It _probably_ says something about them that they not only have a favorite lingerie shop in the city, but also a favorite sales assistant in said shop that greets them by name when they come in and knows their preferences by heart now.

Yuuri thinks, that if a handful of years ago he were to be greeted by name in a lingerie store and had to talk with an employee about how to surprise his husband, he would have combustd out of embarrassment and died on the spot. He thinks he lost a good amount of his shame in his years being married to Victor.

He inspects himself in the mirror critically. It’s nothing fancy or overcomplicated. He really just wanted something to cheer Victor up a little bit.

The thigh high stockings pinch his thighs a little too much, but they look good, Yuuri buys them a little too tight just because he knows Victor likes seeing his thighs practically burst out of them. The garter belt fits comfortably around his stomach, because even if he allows Victor to grope his tum at will, having something squeezing him there isn’t actually incredibly comfortable for Yuuri.

The suspenders tying his stockings to the belt frame his lower body nicely, and Yuuri spins around to check his ass, and allows himself to feel smug about how nice it looks in the lace trimmed underwear.

He puts on his new sweater, and grabs the empty lingerie store bag and makes his way to the living room.

Victor’s sitting on the couch, with his laptop balanced on his knee, splitting his attention between his current favorite reality show playing on TV and answering work e-mails, just like Yuuri knew he would be.

“I picked these for you,” Yuuri says, leaning against the back of the couch, and holding the store’s bag up.

Victor looks at it, eyes lighting up when he recognizes the brand, and takes it from Yuuri eagerly, peering inside.

“It’s empty,” he says with a pout in his voice.

Yuuri curls his lips into an amused smile. “So it is,” he says, and raises a suggestive eyebrow.

Victor looks confused for a second before he turns all the way in his seat and looks over the back of the couch, immediately choking on his own spit when he sees what Yuuri’s wearing.

Yuuri allows himself to feel smug about that too.

Victor stares at him with stars in his eyes, and as heartfeltly as he always says, “I love you,” before he slams his laptop shut.

**Author's Note:**

> [its me ya girl back at it again with a fic compilation](http://crossroadswrite.tumblr.com)


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